Curved Blades
by The Hooded Falcon
Summary: As if in slow motion, they followed her figure flying from one spot to the next, dancing a frightening waltz for death. Quickly her eyes flashed to their motionless figures, "Run… get away from here fast." Legalos didn't help her, he wasn't able to. How did it happen; he had lost her. (Work being currently revised and continued).
1. Chapter 1: The First of the Unknown

**Title: **Curved Blades: Elearven's Story

**Chapter:** Preface

**Chapter Name: **Gold Tinted With Black

**Setting: **In a time of Lord of the Rings, approximately slightly before the making of the Fellowship and the battle for the White City.

**Rating: **Teenage Audience – contains death

**Words:** 902

**Description:**

They watched her flying from one spot to the next, dancing a frightening waltz of death. Quickly her eyes flashed to their motionless figures, "Run… get away from here fast…" Legalos didn't help her, he wasn't able to. How did it happen, he had lost her.

Currently everything is undergoing adjustments and is being revamped. **Ideas are welcome. **

**Important: **This chapter will be written as a futuristic vision of what is to come; the next ones will take place before this. This is because the following ones act as a lead up this event.

**Pronunciation:**

Elearven … _Ell – Ear - Vern_

**Translations from the Grey Company:**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own 'Lord of the Rings' by Tolkien nor any of the associated characters. I do, however, hold ownership and rights over any non-Tolkien characters, plots, settings and complications.

Enjoy...

**. . .**

_Deepest dark, merest light_

_From the one and the same awakening_

_Cunning was the plan of Morgoth_

_Those foolish did all the work_

_He came and culled the harvest_

_Bred the fruits for his purpose_

_Unaware folk of the stars_

_Forced into wounds and dreadful scars_

_To raid the lands under his summons_

_Destroy the race that they once were…_

~ 'Battlelore', a tale of the origin of Orcs

**. . .**

Elearven's bow snapped back by the force of the arrow, its silver tip heading straight into the back of a neighbouring Orc. A perfect shot; the creature fell forward, its blood mixing with the dirt and staining the earth black. But there was no recovery for the young female, more and more Orc's had started pouring in from the sides. The air filled with the scent of sweat, blood and death; twirling around she stuck her blade into the chest of another… There was no room to move.

Off to the side watching, two hobbits, their wrists chaffed by broken ropes lay frozen at the scene before them. Both too terrified to move, all joints of theirs had seized up. Expressions of horror crowned their faces as they watch one of the most beautiful elves fighting, fighting for _their_ lives.

Blood drenched her body, a mix of black and silver and her bow sang its own deathly song. As if in slow motion, they followed her figure flying from one spot to the next, dancing a frightening waltz for death. Quickly her eyes flashed to their motionless figures, "Run… get away from here fast. You have your chance now so don't miss it…"

Perspiration dripped from her brow, tracing her soft features. Pieces of ebony hair clung to her face and boots stood upon the bodies of the ones she had killed. Eyes, flashing of gold and weariness watched as both little men blinked in recognition. There wasn't much time left and their gap to escape was quickly closing, they needed to move faster. "Hurry, now little ones, fly quickly. Into the forest my friends and hide; do not wait for me for I know that I shall not join you."

Panting in between breathes, she sighed in relief as they scrambled to their feet. "What do you mean?" Pippin questioned over the loud scramble of feet and clashes of swords. Slowly he took a small step towards the throngs of danger; as he did one of the fighting Orcs glanced and came hither to him. Fear blossomed across Pippin's features as he scrambled back in hope of reaching the forest.

Raising its gnarled hand, a dagger gleamed in the dusky moonlight. Pippins eyes widened with fright for what was about to happen, he wouldn't get away fast enough. Somewhere behind the Orc, a shout could barely be heard. It seemed as if the whole world had slowed down, erasing all sounds of fighting and images of his surroundings. The knife leered upward, the crude blade blinking with specks of blackened blood, both old and new. This creature was accustomed to killing.

A high pitched wailing sounded somewhere to Pippins right as the knife made its downward fall. But, hands suddenly grabbed his under the arms dragging him out of reach and into the forests edge. Merry had found him again. Both hobbits watched as the dagger made contact with the ground, the same place only milliseconds ago Pippin had lain. Quickly, the face of the Orc contorted from its cruel smirk to a grimace of pain as its lifeless body fell forward, one of Elearven's arrows embedded into his back.

Once again, the hobbits gaze slammed up to where their female elven friend was fighting. Arrows sashayed from her bow and curved daggers flashed in between slashes; surrounding her, fifty or more so Orcs screamed at the chance to down the graceful, deadly warrior. The hobbits last glance of her before hightailing off into the trunks of Fanghorn Forest was of one where serene peace, her fates acceptance cut across her face. They knew she had made her decision, she would stay allowing them time to live.

No one could stop her, she fought for their lives; no one could kill her yet, too many of her friends had already died tonight. Elearven knew the price she would pay for Merry and Pippin's freedom, a price she would all too willingly pay for them.

"Aragon… Merry, Pipping, Gimly, Gandalf… Legalos, please forgive me…" She whispered, her breath coming out in harsh gasps. Too many wounds she had suffered would prevent her from living; the Valar would welcome her into their halls.

Bodies littered the surrounding ground as she dropped both bow and sword at her feet. Everything felt cold; only elves with the taste of death on their tongue could feel it. Tears streaked down her face and Eleaven's knees gave way. Crumpling to the ground, she lay upon the soiled ground, her golden blood mingling with her enemies.

"_I am sorry…"_

**. . .**

"_I am sorry…"_

Eleaven's last words carried on the wind to the small party chasing the once living hoard of Orcs. Shock graced down all three spines before reality set in. "No…" Legalos' words whispered past pale lips. "No, no, no, no… No!" he screamed to the rocky hill tops.

Shudders of horror rolled through the Dwarf Master Gimli and shock froze all the limbs of Aragon, Strider and King of Man. Though none so affected as was Legalos, Prince and Future King of Mirkwood.

"She cannot be lad, she cannot be. There is no way of knowing…" Gimli muttered more to himself them the others. "We… we have to hurry and see, hurry. She cannot be…"

His voice drifted off in the wind as the party was left standing there, unsure of what to do.

**. . .**

"_I am sorry…"_

Two hobbits cuddled closer together in the branches of an old tree as their tears streaked down dirty faces. Each holding the others hand for comfort and support, grief holding the fear of the outside forest at bay.

The woods creaked and groaned around them whilst the wind whistled through the trees crumples branches above. _"I am sorry…" "I am sorry…"_

Everyone wept; this was not meant to happen.

"_I am sorry…"_

**. . .**

Well this is the preview/preface of my oncoming story, everything has been rewritten now and the whole story will continue to be updated.

Regards,

The Hooded Falcon


	2. Chapter 2: Gold Tinted With Black

**Title: **Curved Blades: Elearven's Story

**Chapter:** One

**Chapter Name: **The First of the Unknown

**Setting: **In a time of Lord of the Rings, approximately slightly before the making of the Fellowship and the battle for the White City.

**Rating: **Teenage Audience +

**Words:** 1243

**Description:**

As if in slow motion, they followed her figure flying from one spot to the next, dancing a frightening waltz for death. Quickly her eyes flashed to their motionless figures, "Run… get away from here fast." Legalos didn't help her, he wasn't able to. How did it happen; he had lost her. (Work being currently revised and continued).

Currently everything is undergoing adjustments and is being revamped. **Ideas are welcome. **

This chapter may add some confusion to the story but is all important to the development of characters, their personalities and my personal storyline which I have created in my own twisted mind.

**Pronunciation:**

Elearven … _Ell – Ear - Vern_

**Translations from the Grey Company:**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own 'Lord of the Rings' by Tolkien nor any of the associated characters. I do, however, hold ownership and rights over any non-Tolkien characters, plots, settings and complications.

Enjoy...

**. . .**

Previously:

_Two hobbits cuddled closer together in the branches of an old tree as their tears streaked down dirty faces. Each holding the others hand for comfort and support, grief holding the fear of the outside forest at bay._

_The woods creaked and groaned around them whilst the wind whistled through the trees crumples branches above. "I am sorry…" "I am sorry…"_

_Everyone wept; this was not meant to happen._

"_I am sorry…"_

**. . .**

_**1-2 Months Earlier**_**.**

**. . .**

Saruman the White Wizard stood upon the tall towers of Isengard, his harsh gaze looked out upon the levels of Orc and Uruc-hai preparing for battle. Smoke rose from pits far beneath the ground and thunder and lightning streaked across the sky. Across the gouges, slopes of blackened soil and burnt, slashed stumps of trees stood out from the bleak landscape. The once lush forest had been reduced to nothing but ash and wood clippings. Behind him, the sun set flashed like molten lava.

Below, the crude grunting of the Orcs and clash of iron swords being constructed could be heard throughout the keep, far past the edges of Fanghorn forest. There were no bird calls, no breath of life, only the whistle of an empty wind. Blackened cliffs and dark sky's; he had come up here for a reason, not for distractions.

"It is time," his voice rose from thoughts to words. "Through fire and ash, through time and space I call upon the ones with knowledge of the outside. From one world to another I draw back those that were once stolen. Come, reappear to me."

Clouds began to swirl around the turrets as Saruman lifted his hands, raising his staff upwards. Crows reeled away, their black wings slashing through the air in their rush to fly. All life in the surround area miles wide ceased, their activities halted without understanding. It was as if people, elf, animals and Orc alike could feel the tremor of power flowing through the air.

Energy flittered from each of his finger's tips as his eyes clouded over by the darkness. "In the name of the corrupted, the sane, the meek and the strong I call thee into our time. Insight me of the outcome, enlighten me of the future and teach us of the conquering knowledge."

Spears of black magic flashed from his staff into the whirl wind of clouds. Tremors shook the ground, rippling the fires below and speeding into Fanghorn. "I call upon thee three whose ancestors were once torn from this world." Saruman's voice grew deep as he grasped the staff with both hands. "These three, I call upon you; knowledge you carry may come of help in our struggling world. Drawn to me, deliver them here and let them become who they were once meant to be."

Before the tainted white wizards staff was brought down, his last words echoed out across the mountains, deep and gruff with effort. "I call upon you… Snatch them, magic ensnare, bring them into our world's troubles. I call upon them… bring them to me."

_Me… me… me…_ The clouds dove down onto the tower as blasts of pure energy rocked the foundations. Darkness caved in upon itself before imploding outwards. The tainted wizard fell to his knees, energy drained; where were they? Why had the summoning not worked?

Anger submerged his senses as he hauled himself to his feet through sheer will.

Emerging from the shadows, a beast detangled himself from the darkness. Stepping into the moonlight, the dimness did nothing to hide the hideousness of his form. Distorted flesh littered its body as blood stained knives hung from worn leather belts; and carefully, it made its way over to his masters swaying form.

"Find them," the wizard's voice whispered. "I can feel that they are here… Somewhere. Find them and bring them to me and you shall be named captain; fail to do so you shall be incinerated, the flesh torn from your bones, your head mounted on a pike and your innards sliced from you alive." Saruman's gaze snapped to his servant. "Bring them to me breathing and unharmed or suffer, do you understand?"

The beast grunted, bowing in a short stocky movement it hurrying away. The effort from the spell had finally started to tax the tainted wizard as his knee's buckled beneath him. "What have I done?" His voice trailed off before bleak unconsciousness claimed him, his head slumping forward to hit the cold stone floor. But just as that small worm of doubt burrowed its way into his head, it was pushed back far into the subconsciousness. As fast as it had come it was gone, joining the many others that inhabited the saner part of his mind.

**. . .**

_**Present**_

**. . .**

Fir trees scratched at the arms of the small party of dwarves as they made their way through the forest. "I swear these damn elves taunt us with their swiftness, they must be circln' the trees laughing at our every being." One dwarf muttered to himself as he hefted his axe closer on his shoulder. The helmet he wore sat low on the forehead and his beard reached down to his belt.

"You better watch yourselves you twinkled toed fellows for if I ever catch you I shall swipe the tips off your ears and dirty the pretty hair of yours." Rolling his eyes, the dwarf lifted his head up.

"Calm your chatter Gimli," ordered a companion to the ever grumpy warrior. "We are to come here on matters of great urgency, not to gossip away like old nindlebigs."

Watch _your_ mouth Rumin, for one day I might just cut out the talkative tongue of yours." Gimli stopped to glare at his friend, no one _ever_ told him what to do and it wasn't about to start happening now.

"How dare you…" Rumin started only to be halted by the cry of a scout. "My lords, come quick, I believe that I have found something of great importance!" The scout could not be seen but his voice rose clean from out among the trees. From what anyone could tell, it was laden with shock and concern.

Both dwarf kin raced up to the scout, only to stop at the sight that lay before them. Nestled lightly upon the forest ferns lay a young human, she looked no older than her seventeenth year. Dressed in only a light jerkin and breeches, they could see the countless bruises and grazes that littered her skin. Gimli hastened to her side and shook her shoulder gently, "Lass, awake wee lass. The forest floor is no place to lie…"

Groaning slightly, her eyelids fluttered ever so slightly before opening all together. Raising a hand to her temple, she slowly sat up with the help of the party of travellers. "Where… Where am I? How did I get here?" She croaked.

"Your name my Lady, what is your name?" exclaimed Rumin as he knelt down on her other side, completely ignoring her query. Carefully, he placed a hand upon her brow; the skin was flushed with a slight fever.

"Emma, I am called Emma," came her weak reply before collapsing back down again on the moss.

Both Dwarves looked up at each other before glancing back again to her unconscious face. To find a strange human injured in the middle of a forest was never a good omen.

**. . .**

_I came up with this storyline and beginning chapter three years ago and though it is undergoing much improvement, I thought that I might share it with other writers/authors. Enjoy chapter One…_

_The Hooded Falcon_


	3. Chapter 3: An Unexpected Encounter

**Title: **Curved Blades: Elearven's Story

**Chapter:** Two

**Chapter Name: **Prophecy, an Unexpected Encounter

**Setting: **In a time of Lord of the Rings, approximately slightly before the making of the Fellowship and the battle for the White City.

**Rating: **Teenage Audience – contains death

**Words:** 1085

**Description:**

As if in slow motion, they followed her figure flying from one spot to the next, dancing a frightening waltz for death. Quickly her eyes flashed to their motionless figures, "Run… get away from here fast." Legalos didn't help her, he wasn't able to. How did it happen; he had lost her. (Work being currently revised and continued).

Currently everything is undergoing adjustments and is being revamped. **Ideas are welcome. **

**Pronunciation:**

Elearven … _Ell – Ear – Vern_

Strantculian … _Strant (similar to Strand) – Quill – Lee – An _

Avalia … _A – Varl – Leia _

**Translations from the Grey Company:**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own 'Lord of the Rings' by Tolkien nor any of the associated characters. I do, however, hold ownership and rights over any non-Tolkien characters, plots, settings and complications.

Enjoy...

**. . .**

_Previously:_

"_Your name my Lady, what is your name?" exclaimed Rumin as he knelt down on her other side, completely ignoring her query. Carefully, he placed a hand upon her brow; the skin was flushed with a slight fever._

"_Emma, I am called Emma," came her weak reply before collapsing back down again on the moss._

_Both Dwarves looked up at each other before glancing back again to her unconscious face. To find a strange human injured in the middle of a forest was never a good omen. _

**. . . **

Once, a thousand years ago, an old seer foretold of an ancient prophecy. It was this that would change the course and lives of the people of Middle Earth forever. The seer was elvish, one of the Strantculian elves, a race which would soon disappear along with their king one hundred years later. No one, mortal or immortal would see another of their kind for over a thousand years. It was because of this that the old seer's words started to repeat themselves and people began to question them…

_The king of old shall soon seek to his desires, desires that shall arise as a land once powerful and prosperous will hide its face… Cities built within trees cloak themselves, even the ocean that crashes alongside cliff-shores will quieten… And for a thousand years the hidden world will stand still until the true heir returns… _

_Plagued by death and suffering, a once hated ally shall join in the most sacred of ways. Strength shall return in the union of houses and hands as war that once waged returns… So hear me now, sons and daughters of the elves, men and hobbits, your beloved leader will return… but only in the time of dire need… there, light shall shine through the mists._

_Do not mistake the thundering of hooves or the clash of swords, do not double take upon either ruler, both are important as each other… Trust and rely upon the strength that forms with comradeship and all shall prevail. However, if thus bonds crumble then all shall fail._

_So heed thy words, all who are near; when the death blow strikes… death shall come knocking at… light, once again… Prevail…_

Alas, the parts of the inscription were lost, torn from its perch with in the elven cities. Many believed the each of the missing letters were burnt from the page by dark magic whilst others believed that it was forgotten over time. Only one full scroll was left with the prophecy, however, its location unknown; but then again this was only an old elven rumour…

**. . .**

_I call upon thee three whose ancestors were once torn from this world. These three, I call upon you; knowledge you carry may come of help in our struggling world. Drawn to me, deliver them here and let them become who they were once meant to be._

Saruman's words whispered in Gandalf's ears, its tune twisting upon itself in his mind.

"Something is wrong…" the Grey Wizard muttered to himself. "Events have taken place that shouldn't have happened; the future has now been changed…"

Gandalf stood straighter as he moved his staff inside his cloak; people avoided the area around him, something was wrong for even the mortals could feel it. The air seemed thicker, it crackled with magic. The ground quaked; it felt as though to be shaken by some invisible force and the sky darkened, inky clouds blotted out the sun. Gandalf's thoughts turned dark as his power roamed the surface of Middle Earth, he searched for any sign, any disturbance in the world's balance.

There, right near the paths of the Gondor company the time boundaries had shifted, it was time for him to ride out, "It seems as though a visit to an old friend is in order…" the Grey Wizard thought to himself.

**. . . **

Avalia spun around, gazing at the leafy canopy above her, "How did I get here?" she spoke, taking a step forward… "Where is here exactly?

The dew's dampness from the ground soaking her bare feet; why was she here? Her head felt clouded, as though her mind had decided to dance some fast spinning waltz. A few staggered steps to the left told her that walking was not an option in her current state.

The sound of hoof beats echoed around her in an instant, someone or something was coming her way. Glancing around, no immediate hiding places came to mind as the sound continued to grow louder. Very quickly Avalia started to panic. Where was she to hide?

Through the trees, dark figures on horses, their cloaks flying out behind them cantered towards her. A low overhanging branch rested a bit more than a meter and a half above her head; _"If only I could grab hold of it…"_ she thought bending her knees, ready to spring.

The horses were now almost upon her… Jumping as high as she could, Avalia found that she could reach the overhanging branch easily. Strange. Quietly, watching from above, the brigade of horsemen came to a halt beneath her.

Silver armour and dark leather glinted in the dim sunlight, its tinted colour blended with the tunic beneath. Heavy shoulder and arm guards were worn and deep coloured breeches covered their legs. This was not how people dressed in her age. The front man, raising his hand, halted the entire group.

"This is where we wait men; the representatives of Rivendell and our guides should be here within the hour," he stated.

Horses pawed the ground and thrashed their heads from side to side; it was as if they could sense Avalia violently gripping the branch above. Suddenly, there was a twinge; this was soon to be followed by another. The branch was breaking.

Avalia, noticing the cracking limb started to flail and crawl backwards. However it was but a second too late, her body would not seem to want to stabilise itself; with an almighty crash, the branch and female came down upon three unfortunate soldiers. The air filled with dust, dirt, parts of the large branch and various groans.

Rolling away, Avalia groaned as she came to rest upon the ground, every inch of her body hurt and not all of it was from the fall. Suddenly, feeling the presence of another, her eyes fluttered open. Giving another groan, the dark shape leaned closer.

"What do we have here?" muttered a voice before everything went black.

**. . .**

Well here goes another edited chapter of Curved Blades and I have finally caught up with myself; I hope I am doing well enough now to continue.

Regards,

The Hooded Falcon


End file.
